At The Edge
by Alexandria3
Summary: Harry defeated Voldemort, but he didn't expect to live though it and now he doesn't know what to live for.


Chapter One. _At The Edge._

Something about Professor Severus Snape always made Harry wonder. Wonder how living in the grey area would be like. Was it as dark as Harry's world? Or did it have motivation and light with which to see?

Harry sighed as he ran his hand through the water of the lake. It was so cold. It would so easy to... He suddenly found his face very close to the water, staring at his distorted reflection. _Distorted._ That's what he was. So very jaded, so very broken. Fragmented to a point where Harry wasn't sure where all the pieces were. He hadn't expected to live after killing Voldemort. He hadn't expected that actually _killing_ Voldemort would cost so much. Voldemort had taken his friends with him, and so many other lives. And he had also taken Harry's will to live.

The wounds from the Last Battle had never really healed. Even Hermione and Ron seemed to be alright. But there were still more funerals to attend, more time to wallow in his guilt.

It was cold, lying this way in the water. It was also a little harder to breathe through the water, but that was okay. Harry didn't want to breathe. If he could just get to deeper water, then...

"Oh, I can't _believe_ we only have one more year!"

The voice resonated through Harry's quiet mind and he quickly stood. Someone was coming and it would not do any good for them to catch him... _Catch me at what?_ Harry asked himself, but his mind refused to answer as he made his way back to the castle.

He didn't bother to change into dry clothes when he got to his dorm. He wanted this cold, this feeling of having never been warm before. The image of his Potions Master flitted through his mind and Harry frowned. The man was a puzzle Harry wished he could solve. He didn't hate the man, not anymore. Not after seeing the Professor's memories and watching Snape almost die in his arms. Watching the light in Snape's eyes flicker and his breath come shorter and more shallow... It had been something Harry would never forget.

Harry found himself gripping his wand in the bathroom and staring at the bar of soap. It would be so easy to transfigure it into a knife. _Why not?_ Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror, determined to face this desire. _Death's desire, was it not?_ Could it be anymore simple?

"Harry, what are you doing? And why are you all wet?" Ron asked, giving Harry a strange look and coming closer.

Harry backed away, looking at Ron with fear. Ron represented that which had been lost, something Harry couldn't give back. No matter how much he wished he could.

"I'm so sorry, Ron!" Harry blurted out, tears stinging his eyes. He looked away in shame and pushed past Ron, running. He didn't know to where, just _away._ Anywhere but where Ron stood, concerned and wanting only to help. But Harry was beyond help, he didn't want help. He just wanted to die. Life wasn't as rosy as he thought it would have been after killing Voldemort. He lived with the guilt of many lives, so much lost. Families he couldn't save, lives _destroyed._ For what? So this Dark Lord could die? It was pathetic.

The cool air of the Dungeons made him shiver and realize where his feet had taken him. _The Potions classroom..._ There it is was, still smelling of the last potion made. Snape wasn't in sight, thank Merlin. Harry touched a desk and sighed heavily. There was much Harry wished he could say to Snape. 'Sorry', for one thing. Sorry for dragging him into the Last Battle, sorry for risking his life, sorry for not knowing how Dumbledore was manipulating them both... Sorry for not saving him, too.

And Harry wanted to thank him. For many things, but mostly for saving Harry's sorry ass countless times throughout his Hogwarts years. Harry was in his last year, he should have been able to enjoy school without the race to stay alive. But the sacrifice had been too great. How did Snape do it? How did _he_ find the will to keep going? What did he live for, now that he wasn't a spy anymore?

"Potter. Have you come here with the intention of tormenting me with your presence?" Snape's voice came from behind him, the usual silky drawl that made Harry shiver.

Harry turned and looked Snape straight in the eye, then left. There was nothing for him there anyway. Snape hated him still, didn't he?

Night was even worse. Nightmares of death and destruction came so detailed, Harry often woke thinking he could still hear the cries of pain. It was awful, but it felt so damn real. Would it ever end?

Harry swung his feet off his bed, suddenly determined. He walked into the bathroom with his wand, and cast the most complicated locking spell he knew. He then looked at the familiar bar of soap by the sink.

Cries of the innocent rang in his ears and he seized the soap. Harry quickly turned it into a sharp dagger. To his surprise, it nicked his finger and it immediately bleed. Interesting, that it would be so easy. Such a simple, clear thing to do. Nothing had ever made more sense to Harry.

He sank down to the floor, leaning against the far wall and experimentally drew the dagger down his arm. Even by its own weight, it cut. It stung, but Harry reveled in the pain. It felt way too damn good. Coming to deciding point, Harry started again, but pressed it as hard as he could this time.

_Fuck!_ It hurt alright. Harry let out a hiss of breath, and then switched hands to cut his right wrist. He tried to breathe through the pain and pressed the blade into his flesh.

The dagger clattered to the floor and Harry lay back. He watched his blood pour from him. _Crimson regret._ Wasn't that from a Muggle song? Harry couldn't remember, but it seemed to fit. _I lay dying and pouring crimson regret and betrayal._ Betrayal? Yes. Such great betrayal. Harry had no tourniquet. Not this time.

The pain began to ebb away and Harry's vision filled with swirls of black. _Yes, giving up is so much easier._ Harry thought as he sighed into oblivion.

Chapter Two. _"I know there's no escape now. I just hope I won't have to stare it in the eye." -'Stand My Ground' by 'Within Temptation'._

"Why isn't he waking up? You healed him, shouldn't he be up now?" Ron asked frantically, concerned at the bedside of his best friend.

"Mr. Weasley, he lost a lot of blood before you came. In fact, I am amazed he is still alive." Madame Pomfrey paused, giving Harry's still body a heavy look. "One last regret must have kept him holding on."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Nothing to do except wait, I'm afraid. I suspect he won't be happy to find he is still alive."

Ron gave a loud sniff. "Oh, Harry. Whatever made you do it?"

Saint bloody Potter thought it'd be cute to pull an attempted suicide. Trying to be a martyr, as always! Why didn't he do it in the Great Hall? Would have been easier to clean anyway. Maybe he would even have been saved sooner, with all the charms and wards that place had. Insufferable brat. He didn't give a damn if Potter was depressed enough to try and kill himself.

So, why was he walking to hospital wing? Maybe it was because of what he saw in Potter's eyes the night before. The look of pure devastating despair. Something that Severus Snape hadn't seen since he was dying in the Gryffindor's arms. It had struck a cord inside Severus, something long buried and he had hoped to forget.

"Professor! What are you doing here?" Poppy exclaimed, blocking his way to the curtained bed. Snape looked at her, then glanced towards the bed.

"I am here to see Mr. Potter."

Madame Pomfrey hesitated. "Sir, I don't think that is a very good idea."

"Why ever not, Madame?"

She touched his arm, dropping her voice to a low whisper. "He's suicidal, Severus. Seriously depressed and he's spoken to no one. Not even Mr. Weasley or Ms. Granger."

"I know that, Poppy!" he snapped and strode away from her towards Potter.

He gently pulled back the curtain and stepped in. The sight before him made his heart clench. Potter was curled on the bed with nothing but a sheet covering him. Such a familiar scene.

"Potter..." The pained word left his lips before he thought to control his voice.

The young man shifted on the bed, then turned to look at him with those green eyes. _The same look._ Severus' heart reached out to his student, as unwilling he would be to admit it.

"Professor. Have you come to remind me of the essay due?" Potter gave him a bitter smile. "Because don't worry, I finished everything for next week."

Severus closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them to look at Potter again.

"What have you done? Did you think to die a martyr?" Luckily, anger seeped into his voice instead of the despair that was swelling inside him. It seemed to pour from the Gryffindor's eyes to him.

"Oh, yes. You know me too well. The hero complex goes so far as to die for fame."

The sarcasm bit hard and Snape flinched, looking to the floor for a moment.

"Don't lie to me, Potter! Whatever made you want to take your own life?" The Professor wasn't sure why he couldn't say 'suicide'.

The body on the bed began to shake and Snape paled, hoping it was just the boy crying.

"Go away!" Potter sobbed. And Severus only complied in the face of his own shock.

Must he cry? It wasn't as if he'd done anything... And why did it affect him so?

Severus had no answers, fleeing his emotions in fast strides back to his Dungeons. He tried to dive immediately into making potions for Madame Pomfrey, but the emotions caught up with him anyway.

The Professor buckled under the weight of them, the wooden spoon in his hand clattering loudly to the floor. From the depths of his cold heart came things he had managed to barely suppress since the Last Battle.

_Harry Potter had tried to kill himself,_ the voice in his head repeated, finally letting the fact and the emotions that came with it sink in. _The boy- no, young man- that had saved his life. The young man that was the only one that was there every time he woke from the physical pain and the nightmares. The only one who was bold enough to hold his hand in comfort._

No, Severus had never forgotten that day, or his time in the Infirmary with Potter. The potions master felt strangely _safe_ with the Boy Wonder. And that was a feeling Snape hadn't felt since Dumbledore had told the Professor to kill him. He could still remember that day, when everything in his perfectly planned world had fallen to pieces. And his only thought had been how it would effect Potter.

And what now? What did all this mean? His heart clenched at the questions and the answer came silently, resonating through his mind and body. _Just don't be disappointed,_ he told himself, hugging himself to keep the hole in his heart from bleeding. But it was there, the doubt, the fact.

_Please don't give up, Harry. Because I can't live without you._

"Harry? I need you to drink this." Madame Pomfrey said gently, touching Harry's chin so he would lift it.

"I don't need anything." Harry mumbled, turning away from her and curling up on the bed.

He spoke, that was new. Since Professor Snape had visited him, Harry had gotten a little more responsive. Poppy couldn't figure out why, but that wasn't important. What was important was that it helped her patient.

"Harry, you have to drink-" she begged, but was cut off by Harry's shout of anger.

"Leave me alone!"

"Mr. Potter, I suggest you take the potion. It _will_ help you." Snape sneered, sweeping into the curtained area Harry's bed.

Harry gave him a cold look worthy of a Malfoy, before turning back to Madame Pomfrey. He took the bottle from her and downed the potion in record time. Potter was asleep before he even realized what the potion was for.

Madame Pomfrey gave Severus a grateful look.

"Thank you, Professor. That usually takes me at least an hour to coax him."

"Your welcome." Severus said vaguely, his focus was on Harry. He was staring at the adolescent with a look in his eyes that made Madame Pomfrey retreat to give them privacy.

That night, Severus stayed by Harry's side and Poppy didn't question it. He wasn't sure when he came to the decision, but he knew why without having to voice it. Even inside his head he only admitted this in whispers and echos. As if saying it too loudly would break the delicate veneer of suppression.

The first time Harry woke up screaming, Snape jumped out his chair with his wand at the ready. Before he realized Harry was still asleep and under the assault of a nightmare. Madame Pomfrey did not come running and Severus realized why there was a Silencing spell on the curtains around the bed.

Another scream tore from Harry's throat, causing Snape to wince and turn back towards the young man. Harry was tossing and turning, trying to escape the grasp of the dream. Instinctively, Severus grabbed Harry's hand in a roman handshake.

"Harry. Harry, wake up. It's just a dream." Eventually, his soft voice penetrated Harry's dream. The hand in his clenched and Harry opened his eyes. The Gryffindor was obviously surprised to see it was his Potions Professor. Harry swallowed hard, then seemed to realize his hand in Snape's.

Severus reluctantly let go, sitting back down in the chair. He let the long silence go, closing his eyes to go back to sleep.

"You called me 'Harry'." he stated.

The Professor didn't respond, hoping he wouldn't have to answer the next question.

"Why?"

_Damn._

"Is there a reason I should not?"

_Good option, Severus. Now if only he'd buy it..._

"I think of a million reasons. One of them being that you hate me."

_Foolish boy._

"I don't hate you."

The silence stretched long enough for Snape to drift off, and when he heard Harry speak again, it was in a whisper.

"I don't hate you either."

Severus went rigid with shock. _Oh, come now, old man. You knew this. Why do you think he stayed by your side when you lay dying?_ a voice in his head informed him. He breathed again, feigning sleep to pretend he hadn't heard Harry's whisper. _He doesn't hate you. _His heart leapt at the fact, but he quickly snuffed out the flame of hope. _Don't be disappointed!_ he reminded himself.

Chapter Three. _"Am I too lost to be saved?" -'Tourniquet' by Evanescence._

The next time Harry started screaming, Severus immediately tried to sooth the Gryffindor in the same way as before. Once Harry woke, he would withdraw quickly and pretended to fall asleep right away. He never allowed himself to linger, to really feel the way Harry's hand felt in his, or remember how Lily's eyes looked much the same as Harry's. Severus tried not to think about how much Harry was like Lily, because he knew that Harry was also very different from both his parents.

The process became routine, but every scream tore at Snape's heart. What was he to do? Poppy was already giving Harry the strongest sleeping potion Severus could make.

Mid-week, Harry woke up by his own scream before Snape could react. The Gryffindor lay there, silent and panting. Severus waited, tense in his chair.

"Professor?"

Severus winced, he had hoped they wouldn't speak again.

"Professor?" Harry's voice wavered, sounding panicked in a way Severus couldn't help but respond to.

He stood, slipping his hand into Harry's without a spare thought.

"I'm here, Harry."

The hand he held clenched around his and the Gryffindor's breathing evened out.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Snape said against his better judgement. He didn't want his worst fear to be confirmed.

"For being here for me. I don't deserve it."

"No, Harry. That's not true." Snape said, being truly honest.

Severus could hear the tears beginning to pour from the Gryffindor's eyes.

"How would you know?" Harry asked, somehow managing to make his voice steady.

"Because I know you. And you deserve the world, Harry."

"Do I?" Harry's voice broke.

"Yes."

Harry let out a sob, reaching out for Snape. Severus gathered Harry in his arms, rocking him and whispering reassuring words.

"Shh, it's okay."

"Is it?"

Severus stiffened at the note of anger.

"Of course it is." he said, trying to alleviate the Gryffindor.

"No it's not!" The shout surprised Severus, but Harry only clutched his robes tighter. "Nothings okay! Everyone's dead and it's all my fault!"

"Not everyone is dead, Harry. It was _never_ your fault!" he snapped, glowering at the tousled head.

"How do _you_ know?"

Severus gripped Harry's shoulders and forced the young man to look into his eyes.

"Because I was there with you!"

That seemed to stunt the Gryffindor. The green eyes that were filled with tears looked tormented. Severus could see the battle being waged behind them. He drew Harry into his arms again, lying on the narrow bed and falling asleep before he could wonder if Harry would protest.

Something was shaking his shoulder and he frowned, trying to brush it away. He was still exhausted from waking up in the middle of night for one and half weeks.

"Professor, you need to wake up before Madame Pomfrey gets here," the faintly amused voice made Severus open his eyes and glare at his assailant.

Only the crooked smile Harry gave him made Snape move. It was the first time he had seen Harry truly smile since the Last Battle.

Poppy bustled in, barely taking notice of the potions master. She had planned to let Harry out today, but she still wasn't sure if Harry was getting out of his depression. _Perhaps Severus will make sure he is alright._ Upon this thought, she looked around for the Professor after she told Harry to leave.

"Severus," she called to him. He turned to her with his usual scowl. "Please look after him."

A facade, that was all it was. He'd wanted out of the hospital, so he'd forced a smile and conversation with Madame Pomfrey. A lying confession, and he was out the door. Harry wanted to show the world what they wanted to see. A bright young man in his last year of school, forgetting the burden of the past.

"Harry? You're back!" Hermione rushed to him with open arms. They hadn't spoken for months since Harry withdrew into himself. And he couldn't stand the warmth of their friendship. He pushed Hermione away, making sure not to see the look in her eyes and went upstairs to his dorm.

Unfortunately, Ron followed him.

"Harry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Ron!" Harry lashed out, angry that Ron even cared about his empty shell of a body. "Just leave me alone!"

Ron left, taking the last of Harry's mendacity with him. He broke down, curling up in the corner of his bed. Lying was an awful thing, but it was so very necessary. Just to keep pushing everyone away.

Chapter Four. _"I believe in you, I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies." - 'Dance With The Devil' -Breaking Benjamin_

Harry surprised himself by going to his classes and actually attempting to catch up. School became an escape again, his marks soaring through the roof while his will to live went the opposite way.

Potions yet again became an everyday struggle. Snape watched him like a hawk, though Harry was doing exceedingly well in the class. For some reason, the thoughts of running a knife along his arm again, or throwing himself into the Lake, were silenced under the scrutinizing gaze.

Outside of the class, Harry felt he was getting closer and closer to that edge. All he wanted to do was fall and never get up again. Everything turned into misery. Hermione and Ron wouldn't stop pestering him, even Professor McGonagall tried to reach out to him. But he didn't let them, he didn't want to be saved. Harry knew he was past saving, he didn't _deserve_ to be saved. No one could help him.

_But what about what Snape said..._ Harry perked up at the thought, most of his attention still on writing the Potions notes. _Snape thinks I deserve the world._ He smiled prettily at the bitter notion that it was actually true. _If only he hadn't been lying._

Funny how the mind can make one believe their own lies.

"Mr. Potter!" the Professor called on him and Harry's strain of thoughts was broken.

"Yes, Professor?"

"What are the properties of the ginseng tuber?"

_What an easy question, I just wrote that down. Does he really think I'm not paying attention?_ "Both medicinal and commercial. But it is mostly used for medicinal purposes, such as arthritis, general bone-ache, headaches, and soreness."

"Finally, a right answer. From Mr. Potter, no less." Snape hissed, scowling at the rest of the class. "Are _all_ of your heads in the clouds today?"

_Ah, last resort._ Harry smirked inwardly to know that Snape had that bit of confidence in him. He ducked his head before the amusement showed on his face. In his hurry to get back to his notes, he accidently stabbed the index finger of the hand that was holding the parchment steady.

He didn't cry out at the pain or in surprise, Harry simply stared at the growing pool of blood. His blood mixed with the ink on the parchment, blurring some of the words, but not making it unreadable.

During his daze, Snape's lecturing voice eventually penetrated the sudden silence in Harry's mind.

"...To look into China, as a way of curing a plague. This, of course, did not work because the vine extract had not been tested first and Mr. Stevens had no idea if the potion truly cured his daughter or not. But he..."

Then Harry blanked out again when the pain began to throb through his hand in time to his heart beats. _I don't deserve to live, I should just lay down and die. It would be better for the world, they wouldn't have to worry anymore._ Harry was drowning, beginning to sway in his chair without realizing it. The hum of Snape's voice came on in the background and Harry grasped at it like a lifeline. _Please don't let me drown inside myself, _he pleaded to the voice and who it belonged to. _I wish I could be saved! Save me!_

The cold stone floor was a welcome feeling. It was solid, _there_ and very cold. It felt _real_ in his otherwise swirling vortex of misery and blood. The wound had stopped bleeding sometime ago, it hadn't hit the bone and wasn't serious at all. But the blood had reminded Harry how precarious his life was, how he could be gone tomorrow if he wished it.

So, why didn't he? _Because I want to be saved._ Because he was hoping, deep down, that someone, something, would convince him that life was worth living. Promise that the _guilt_ would go away, that the war _wasn't_ his fault.

_But it is, and the guilt won't go away. It's never that easy._

"Harry," a soft voice called to him, penetrating his mind, "don't give up." the voice pleaded.

Harry opened his eyes to a familiar scene. Snape had his hand in a roman handshake, and Harry was lying in a hospital bed. His hand was clean and healed.

_Those eyes, why do they cry for me? _Harry gazed, confused at the single tear that rolled down his Professor's pale cheek. Gripping the hand in his, Harry reached with his healed hand and gently wiped away the one tear. Staying to caress the face it belonged to, and Snape leaned into the touch.

"Don't leave me, Harry," he whispered, "please don't give up."

A part of Harry's mind was screaming, _what the fuck is going on?_ When another part was listening to Snape's soft, pleading voice in a way he never had before.

"I promise."

The words slipped out before Harry really thought them through. _You can't make that promise! You wanted to- But he loves me, doesn't he?_ The realization hit Harry like a brick wall. _All those nights... What he said... It's all true, he really thinks that._

Snape's eyes lit up at Harry's words, in a way Harry wanted to see over and over. He never wanted to see that light die, so he was damn well going to keep that promise.

But it wasn't going to be easy. Depression didn't just disappear because Harry was determined to _not_ be depressed. The only thing that kept him from going under, was one Severus Snape. He lived his life one day at a time, and that was hard enough. Just when the guilt was becoming too much, just when the light in his world was about to go out, a glimpse of Severus would be seen. At lunch, walking through the halls, and potions class. Anything would do, just a glance or look and Harry would be reminded of what the Professor had done for him.

The cycle went round and round, the overbearing guilt, the look in those dark eyes, the relief, that pain, the guilt again. Harry was getting tired of it, why did it have to keep coming _back? _Would it ever go away? Was he doomed to feel the guilt of the deaths and the war for eternity until- No. He wouldn't think about that possibility.

"Harry?" the soft voice brought Harry out of his reverie, making him look up. Hermione stood in front of the Common Room fireplace, blocking his heat. But the nervous way she danced on her feet drew Harry's attention.

"Sit down before you fall down, Hermione." Harry said, padding the space next to him. She seemed grateful for the suggestion, like she had feared that Harry would be unresponsive.

_ Which isn't a completely foolish thing to assume,_ Harry thought to himself. He watched her sit down, wringing her hands now.

"Harry..." she started again, still not really looking at him. Harry waited silently. With a sudden decision, Hermione faced Harry with a determined look.

"Are you gay?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Of all the things Harry had been expecting her to say, it wasn't that.

"What makes you think I'm gay?" Harry asked innocently, purposely not answering her question.

Hermione frowned. "Answer mine first, then I'll tell you."

"Fine. Yes, I am." he stared at her expectantly, waiting for a reaction or signs of distress. But she only heaved a sigh and her frown eased somewhat.

"Do you... Do you _like_ anyone?"

Harry gave her a mock suspicious look. "Hermione, are you asking me if I have a crush on someone?"

"Um... Yeah."

"No." Harry said firmly, pretending to turn his attention back to his book.

_A crush!_ Harry didn't have a _crush._ He didn't have the emotional _room_ for a crush. Right? Or what, as was the philosophical question Harry's mind often ran back to, was the significance of Snape his life? Harry blatantly refused to remember his realization that Snape was in love with him. And the emotions that came with the packaged hope. _Hope... Hm, there's another one._

"Harry, I think you and Sna-" Harry heard Hermione speak and quickly cut her off.

"Don't you _dare_ say his name!" Harry snapped, glaring at her angrily. Why, oh why, did she have to mention his name? Why did she have to be smart enough to figure it out? As if he didn't have enough guilt already! The blood on his hands...

"Why?" she breathed, staring at him with wide eyes.

Harry just looked at her, incredulous. "Because he deserves someone better than me."

It was the answer Harry had refused to recognize when he thought of his Professor. _He doesn't deserve me, he's too good for me..._ Snape suddenly seemed so righteous because the man _cared._ He thought that Harry was _worth _loving. But Harry knew he didn't belong on that pedestal.

"You... Really believe that, don't you?" Hermione whispered, looking at him with a sort of terrified awe.

"It's the truth." Harry said. He bit his tongue to keep the tears at bay and stood. He rushed to his dorm, to hide under the covers and cry. Cry for everything in heart wrenching sobs, curled onto himself so he couldn't breathe. He hadn't cried in so long, it felt good. Cleansing, even. The physical release of all the pain bottled up inside finally uncoiled.

And came to the undeniable conclusion.

Chapter Five. _Show me love._

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, stood on the ledge of the Astronomy Tower, debating his method of falling. He'd heard that most jumpers die from fear before they even hit the ground. Half way through, they regret their decision. But Harry wasn't afraid of death, he'd faced it too many times before. Through all the denial, Harry admitted he was stalling. Perhaps hoping that Snape would randomly appear and coax him from the ledge. Or, perhaps beginning to believe that he too, loved Snape. And that leaving the man, would be such a selfish act.

That begged the question, was suicide selfish? Harry's depressed, guilt ridden side, screamed 'no' and 'get the heck on with it'. But the part of him that had been emerging since that day in the infirmary... Calmly told him that yes, it was selfish to end his own misery and leave the people that cared about him in sorrow.

"Harry?" came the voice of good ol' ill timing Colin Creevey. "What are you doing up there?"

Harry didn't even turn to face the younger boy. "Getting into philosophy."

"Is that the latest method, Harry? Standing on the edge like you're about to jump? Very metaphorical!"

He sounded so damned honest. His faith in Harry was so blind, that Colin couldn't even conceive that his hero would _ever_ commit such as thing as suicide.

"What makes you think I'm not going to jump?"

"Why would you, Harry?" Colin retorted. "You've got too much to live for. Friends, an adopted family, people that love you. Those people need you, Harry. And you wouldn't walk out on them, right?"

Colin was starting to sound very un-Colin-like and mature, so that Harry had no choice but to listen. He was right, Harry knew. The hero inside him wasn't going to let him do anything of the sort if he thought of it that way. Colin was right, they did need him. As much he needed them.

With that thought, Harry turned carefully and stepped down. He faced Colin, looking the boy in the eye.

"Thanks, Colin. I never thought your blind faith in me would ever do any good."

Colin only gave a lopsided smile. "Oh, it's not so blind, Harry."

The first thing Harry did, was go to his friends. Both of them were surprised that he actually wanted to speak with them.

"So... I know I've been... Well, pretty distant and depressed lately."

Ron snorted, but refrained from saying anything because of Hermione's glare.

"But I want to stop now. I don't know how, and I still feel the same way... I just want to stop feeling it."

"Stop feeling what, Harry?" Hermione asked gently. She had a pretty good idea, but she wanted Harry to talk about it.

"The guilt. The feeling that I don't deserve to live." Harry breathed deeply through his nose, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"What causes you to come to these conclusions?"

"It's hard not to think that it's not all my fault. That so many people died because of me. They died for me... I don't deserve that."

"It wasn't your fault, Harry. They died for their own reasons. They made the choice to put themselves at risk because they believed in a world without Voldemort. And you were the one that made that world possible. You've always carried such a heavy weight on your shoulders, Harry. But you don't have to carry it anymore."

Harry nodded, knowing she was right. "I think... I have someone I need to thank."

"Then go to him, Harry. I'm sure he'll be as happy as we are to see you again."

There was a brief silence where they embraced, and Harry thanked Hermione again. Then Ron finally piped up, "who's going to be happy?"

Hermione only rolled her eyes. "Oh, Ronald."

"What? Did I miss something?"

Harry chuckled and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Yes, yes you did."

And with that, Harry left them, going down to the Dungeons. He checked the classroom first, finding no one there. Harry knocked on the Professor's office door, hoping that Snape was behind it.

The door opened to reveal a scowling potions master, whom looked briefly surprised that Harry was there.

"What brings you here, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, making it clear he wasn't about to invite Harry in.

"Please, call me Harry."

"That does not answer the question, _Harry."_ Severus hissed his name in almost mocking tone and Harry glared at him for it.

"Quit it, would you?" Harry snapped. "There's no one here. I just came to talk!"

Snape just stared at him, his lips pressed into a thin, angry line. Then he turned heel, leaving the door open and going back to a bubbling cauldron. Harry stepped in, closed the door and walked over to see what Snape was brewing. _Ah. Dragon's Blood, the potion of revenge._

"So? What is it you came to talk about?" the Professor said brusquely.

"Well... I wanted to thank you, for being there for me when no one else was."

"Nonsense. Your friends were there too." A flicker of real emotion leaked into the Professor's voice, causing Harry's hopes to soar.

"But not in the way I needed them." Harry sighed, looking at the floor. "Though I hardly deserve it, it felt good to know that _someone_ cared."

"We all cared, Harry." it was barely a whisper, said with his back to Harry, bottling the potion.

Harry came behind his Professor, brushing against him. Snape immediately froze, one hand still holding an uncorked vial. He was almost the same height as Snape, giving him the advantage to whisper in his ear.

"But only you showed me love."

Snape gave a shudder. "Impossible," he denied softly.

"Is it?" Harry turned Snape to face him, looking into the dark pools before pressing his lips against Snape's.

For a moment, Harry thought Snape would push him away, but instead, he kissed back. Something broke inside Severus, and he pressed against Harry, trying to devour his mouth. Harry was struck by the sudden force of passion, but loved every minute of it. He felt himself get hard under his trousers as Snape pressed against him.

Then Snape suddenly pushed him away, gripping his shoulders. Dark eyes looked into green, affixed with desire and emotion.

"I can't. You're still my student." Severus whispered, as if he hadn't wanted to say it.

Harry lifted a hand to caress Snape's face, giving him a tiny smile. "Albus isn't here, Severus. Nothing's holding you back." Harry pressed a chaste kiss to the Professor's nose. "Besides, my Invisibility Cloak hasn't been used nearly enough this year."

Before Snape could scoff the at comment, he had an armful of _Harry_ and his heart was in his mouth. He was so in love with this fiery creature, Severus hadn't quite realized how much until that moment.

The hand undoing his trousers told him Harry wasn't as unpracticed as he let on. Severus moaned against the skin of the Gryffindor's neck, his own hand deftly releasing the answering hardness. _Since when had something so common as frottage felt _so_ good?_ He stroked both cocks in his hand, kissing Harry for all he was worth.

Then they were coming, each others names on their lips. They held each other, slowly coming down from their high. A part of Severus' mind was quietly informing him that McGonagall was going to come down soon to coax him into afternoon tea. Not-so-unfortunately, she wasn't Albus, so this endeavor rarely worked. But she came nonetheless, on the off chance that he wouldn't have enough energy to argue with her.

He nudged Harry, unable to resist gently biting the tanned skin of his neck.

"The Headmistress is going to come down soon." he whispered.

Harry groaned, withdrawing and giving Snape a bewildered look. "What? Why?"

"Because that is what she does every afternoon at half-past two."

"Oh. Guess I better get going then." Harry mumbled, looking down at their naked cocks. A cleansing spell and Harry met Severus' gaze again.

"I think, next time, I want to try and suck you off."

Chapter Six. "_Apathy in disguise, crept on you like a spy, hurt you in ways you can't describe." -'Someone To Save You' by One Republic._

"I don't care." Harry whispered the words across the air between him and the mirror.

_Yes, you do._ green eyes answered.

"I want to do this. It's the only way out."

_Pain is never the only way._ green eyes flashed in anger, a glint of silver catching their attention.

"I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all."

_You feel love._ the eyes followed the length of the shaving blade, admiring its cool serenity.

"I can't deny that. I'm not leaving, you know."

_This is only a brief release._

"Exactly."

_I'm dangerous. Touch me._ the blade mocked the eyes with its perfection.

_Don't do this. The addiction will kill you. And you don't want to die._ the eyes were becoming desperate as the blade continued to mock them. It looked beautiful against blue vein of his wrist.

"I'm not going to die. I only want to prove that I am alive."

_Of course, you do._ the blade answered. _You only want to feel again._

_This isn't the end._ the eyes replied as Harry pressed down on the blade.

He hissed in pain and let go of the blade. The crimson streak against the white porcelain of the sink was elegant in its graceful flow. It was perfection, just as the silver blade had promised.

A sudden knock on the door startled Harry out his deep reverie. He instinctively covered his bleeding wrist.

"Harry? You almost done in there?" the irish voice of Seamus Finnigan sounded from the other side of the door.

"Um... Just a moment more!" he called out. But God, he felt guilty. And _so_ embarrassed, what was wrong with him? Harry stared at the blood on the floor, in the sink, on the blade, _everywhere._ What a mess! How was he going to clean this up? Nevermind that his wrist was still bleeding!

"Shit!" Harry cursed and grabbed his wand with a bloody hand. He cast a cleansing spell everywhere he could see a spot of blood. Then he realized that his wrist was still bleeding and it was making more of a mess. The reminder brought the pain back and he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut against it. _What now?_ his mind screamed at him.

Then he spotted the towel and grabbed it. He pressed against the wound and cast the only healing spell he could think of so quickly. Harry choked on a scream at the pain at feeling the wound close. He let it out then, a part of his mind telling him that if he wanted pain, this was it.

"Harry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Harry shouted back, breathing through the pain. Just as suddenly as it came, it was over and Harry pulled his sleeve over the scar. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry picked up the bloodied towel and wrapped the blade in it. Then he took his wand and put it in his pocket. Harry stood a little straighter, and walked out the door. He ignored Seamus as he hid the towel inside his robes and continued his way out of the dorm.

Breaking into a run, Harry headed for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Skidding to a halt in front of that one particular sink, he whispered the magic words in Parseltongue.

The platform brought him down and he stepped off, vaguely hearing the Chamber's entrance close behind him. He ran to the door, and opened that one too. Harry didn't stop running until he crashed into the library. Harry had found it the last time he escaped here with tears in his eyes. Thinking back, Harry realized just how long ago it was since he had been driven to retreat _here_. Last time, had been when Dumbledore died and he had been forced to hate Snape.

The memory ripped a pained moan from his lips and Harry collapsed in front of the fireplace that lit upon his entrance. Dumbledore may have been manipulative, but he had still been a father figure to Harry. And Severus... Oh, Severus had been the only one that _understood_ with his cold pessimistic advice.

_"Tell me what you need, and I'll tell you how to get along without it."_ he had said so very often. Snape had taught Harry to survive when no else did, to find hope and strength when things were hopeless. To prove that the impossible was possible.

_FLASHBACK:_

_ Harry was staring at the Mirror of Erised, the image of his parents strong in his mind. The feeling of peace the memory brought was quickly snuffed with Snape appeared in the mirror as well._

_ "Feeling sentimental?"_

_ "That's PRIVATE! You have no right!"_

_ "Then shield your mind, Potter! Legilimens."_

_ A painful memory was brought to the surface this time. Vernon was beating him again for unknowingly using magic._

_ "Fucking FREAK!" Vernon screamed as he landed another punch on the boys ribs. A loud crunch was heard of bones breaking. Harry vaguely remembered screaming and knew he would black out soon._

_ With a sudden fierce amount of anger, Harry pushed a shocked Snape out of his mind._

_ "Nobody knows that! You can't know!" Harry sobbed, pushing the Professor away to grab his wand. With a sudden look of determination, Harry spun around and oblivated the potions master before he had a chance to react._

_ Breathing heavily in the sudden silence, Harry stared with wide eyes at Snape's body on the floor. Suddenly kneeling beside him, Harry lifted the man to a chair and waited for him to come to._

_ Ten minutes later, Snape finally stirred to Harry's enormous relief. Snape held his head in his hands, groaning at the impending headache. Then he remembered he wasn't alone. How the hell did he end up in the chair? Wasn't he supposed to be teaching The Boy Who Just Wouldn't Die, Occlumency?_

_ "I... Managed to make a shield, and I think it just bounced."_

_ Snape raised an eyebrow. "'Bounced', Potter?"_

_ Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yeah. You know, when a spell bounces back? Like recoil on a gun."_

_ "Why don't I believe you?"_

_ "Because you never trusted me? Just a guess." Harry shot back._

_ "Of course. Start again, then."_

_ And Harry learned quickly how to block certain memories from Snape's prying._

Waking suddenly with a strangled scream, Harry shot up from the make-shift bed he had made in front of the fireplace. Breathing heavily from the last threads of a nightmare he could barely remember, Harry looked around the library.

Finding his wand he cast a tempus spell. _7:30 p.m._. Shoot! Severus was probably worried about him already, he had to get back. Hissing pain when he got up, Harry looked at the arm he'd used for balance. The wound was bleeding again, torn open despite Harry's flimsy healing spell.

Heaving a sigh, Harry focused his magic better than before and cast a better one. This time it was less painful and it healed fully, leaving only a stark scar behind. Briefly, he thought about erasing it, but then decided against it. It would remind him that blood still flowed through his veins. Pulling his sleeve over the wound, Harry made his way out of the Chamber.

Thinking that he should first ease Snape's fears, Harry went down to the dungeons first. Fragments of his dream came back to him and Harry shook his head. Would he ever tell Severus? He didn't have to, so why now?

_Because now, you love him and he loves you._

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Harry knocked on the Professor's door.

"Harry..." and Snape dragged him inside. "Where have you been?"

Harry hesitated, looking away. "Um... Hiding?"

"Whatever sort of reason do you need to _hide,_ Harry?"

Staring at the wall beyond, Harry refused to let memory surface. He needed to distract Severus somehow. Then he had the perfect idea.

"I have something to show you," Harry said, taking the potions master's hand in his and dragging him out the door.

Since it was past curfew, they didn't have to worry about being seeing. But Snape still managed to free his hand and stop Harry.

"Where are we going? And _why?"_

"I... Just follow me, okay?"

Snape looked at him long and hard, drawing himself up as he watched a dark memory flicker across Harry's green eyes in the wand light.

"Very well."

And they continued walking. All the way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"What in the- What is going on, Harry?" he demanded, but Harry silenced him with a finger to his lips.

Sure that Snape would be silent, Harry turned to the entrance and took a deep breath.

_"Open..."_ he whispered in Parseltongue and the Chamber slid open silently. Looking for the conventional way down, Harry looked around the platform for the hidden ledge. Finding it, he looked back towards Severus. He looked afraid and took a step back.

Harry held out his hand to the Slytherin. "Do you trust me?"

Seeming to snap out of a daze, Snape stared at Harry with wide eyes. A part of him want to say no and runaway with his tail between his legs. But the more braver part said that Harry needed his trust, not his fear.

"Y-yes." he hated the hesitation in his voice as he took Harry's hand. A smile lit the boy's face and he turned to take a step- straight into the ground!

Taking a step further, Snape realized there was a hidden staircase running beside the tunnel.

"Don't be afraid," Harry whispered once they were in the dark and couldn't see two inches ahead of them. But as the Gryffindor spoke, torches flared to life on either side, continuing all the way down until the stairs disappeared around the corner.

Harry smiled a little at the wonderment in Severus' expression. He then continued to lead Snape down to the heart of the Chamber.

"Is this-"

"Sh, I'll explain when we get to the library."

_"Library?"_ Snape barely refrained from shouting.

"Please, Severus. We're still in the pipes, and that means anyone with a good ear can hear us in the hall below."

Effectively silenced, they continued down the long stairs until they came to another door. Harry bade it open and stepped through, giving Severus an apologetic smile before climbing down the rust covered ladder.

Snape gave a grimace of disgust when he landed beside Harry, having no choice but cast a cleaning a spell on his and Harry's hands.

"We're almost there." Harry said. And that was when Snape noticed the dead Basilisk, perfectly preserved. Like a child at Christmas, he stared at the wondrous potion ingredients.

Harry chuckled, tugging on the Slytherin's hand. "Come on, I'll help you collect it all later."

Moved into awe, Severus only followed. The Slytherin in him beginning to feel privileged to be inside the Chamber of Secrets.

Walking through more tunnels, they finally came to Harry's library. Harry went to to prepare some tea, while Severus looked around. Seeing he was bit more calm than before, Harry began to explain.

"As you might of guessed, this is the Chamber of Secrets where I killed Voldemort's Horcrux and the Basilisk. I was hiding from Hermione and Ron when I found all this. Then I found a portrait of Salazar Slytherin himself, and he explained everything. This used to be _his_ get away from the other founders, he stored everything down here. All his books, his magical objects and potions. This library has his notes as well on various studies he conducted with potions and spells. Generally dark stuff, but it's all very interesting. Something Voldemort would have loved to get his hands on. Thank Merlin he didn't get far in studying everything in here before he had to leave. Ignorant that he was, he looked only at the really evil stuff. But it didn't help him much because Salazar was only studying on a theoretical level.

"The potions room, I'm sure you'll love to see. There's an index over there, if you'd like to read it. The magical objects room has an index too, but Salazar sort of lost it and I haven't found it yet.

"So? What do you think?" Harry asked as he set a cup in front of Snape and sipped his own tea.

"This is all... Very interesting. But why have you brought me here?"

It was Harry's turn to look away. "I thought you'd like it..."

Realizing his mistake, Severus reworded his question. "I didn't say that Harry, what I don't understand is why now?"

"Because I trust you, I always have. And with Dumbledore gone, it won't matter that I actually belong in the Slytherin House."

"Since when have you come to that conclusion? Just because you are the heir of Slytherin? The hat-"

"Because I asked the hat to put me in Gryffindor when it wanted to put me in Slytherin."

Severus was stunned into silence by that, gazing down at the tea in his suddenly cold hands.

"So that's how you defeated him," he said quietly, "you sacrificed yourself to him, and he took everything you had."

Not willing to let the memory of wanting to kill himself come back, Harry nodded. He pressed his lips into a thin line, determined to suppress the feeling of hopelessness.

"Is it a wonder why I wanted to die? The way my life had been up until then, nothing seemed better."

_There it is again._ Something nudged at the back from Snape's brain, he was sure there was more to that statement. But he couldn't for the life of him put his finger on it.

"You have friends."

"I can't talk to them about everything. It scares even Hermione when I start talking about what I experienced through Voldemort. So I just stopped, I had to bottle it all up. Dumbledore wouldn't help, even if he had lived, I'm sure he would have sent me to the front line regardless. I think I surprise people with my lack of innocence. They think I'm still a child, yet they expected me to defeat a Dark Lord. There's hypocrisy for you.

"Besides, it's not like Hermione or Ron have just me to think about..."

"And today? Your dorm mates were worried about you and went to McGonagall. We were all looking for you, were you here?"

"Yes... I'm sorry I worried everyone." Harry was staring at the fireplace and Snape followed his gaze. Then he noticed the stain on the carpet. It looked an awful lot like blood. A sharp intake of breath and his eyes filled with despair. Surely Harry hadn't tried again?

"That's not what you think!" Harry rushed over to him, quickly taking hold of his lover's hands and kneeling before him. "Look at me, damn it!

Severus slowly turned his gaze to Harry, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

"Look, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." Harry gripped Severus' hands tighter, trying to warm the cold hands.

"But why?"

"It's over Severus, it won't happen again." _And it won't, not if it happens like this again._ Harry vowed, he wanted to do everything in his power to keep that look of desperate despair from his love's eyes.

"You promised before."

"And I've kept that promise, I'm here aren't I? Severus! Please!" And he kissed him, if only to make a point.

Severus melted under assault, giving into Harry in a way he knew he always would. Glimpses of the future toiled through his mind and he gasped, both with desire and surprise. How wonderful that would be! Especially with none of the immediate danger Voldemort used to represent.

Harry was already unbuttoning his shirt and running his hands all over the expanse of pale flesh. How could one kiss result in such passion?

All thoughts were abruptly stopped when Severus gasped, staring down at Harry with wide eyes. The Gryffindor only smirked around the mouth full of cock. When he started to suck, Severus collapsed back in the chair. He tried desperately not to thrust into that warm suction. Harry was remarkably good for not having much experience... Or so Severus thought.

"Harry!" Severus groaned, gripping the armrests with white knuckles as the sweet orgasm promised to come closer. Then suddenly everything stopped.

"Wha?"

Harry grinned at his lover's rare state of incoherency and vowed to make it happen again. And again.

"I want you inside me." Harry whispered, tugging Severus to the spongy carpet. Snape's eyes went wide again in surprise, though he let himself be guided over Harry.

"Aren't you-"

"No, Severus." Harry interrupted, caressing the white thighs that straddled his hips.

"Who?" seemed the obvious question.

"Why do we need to talk about this now?" Harry dodged the question, trying to distract Severus by stroking his member lightly.

Severus groaned above him, moving between Harry's legs and placing a kiss on the flesh there.

"Because I want to know." said Severus, stopping to look into Harry's eyes.

"Fine." Harry turned his head to stare at the lit fireplace. "Malfoy."

Severus froze, realizing the very depth of Harry's depression before.

"I never talked about it, when he died... But he always told me that- that he knew..."

"Knew what?"

"That I would find someone else." Harry suddenly shook his head and looked back at his lover with a wry grin. "Besides that, let's have sex."

And they proceeded to do so. It was a first for both of them in such a long time, and it was ecstasy. They watched each other in the throes of passion and thanked all the Gods that they were together.

Chapter Seven. _As The World Falls Down -David Bowie from the movie soundtrack of "The Labyrinth"_

_"There's such a sad love,_

_Deep in your eyes._

_A kind of pale jewel,_

_Open and closed,_

_Within your eyes._

_I'll place the sky_

_Within your eyes."_

Severus gazed quietly into the fireplace, unaware that he was being watched. He heaved a great sigh and stood, walking slowly to the bedroom with heavy footsteps.

Harry could tell something was bothering the older man, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Had his classes been particularly trying today? No, the sadness was deeper than that. Had Harry done something? Not he was aware of. The last time they'd been together, they'd had the most amazing sex in the Chamber of Secrets.

Watching Severus without his masks from under the Invisibility Cloak was just making Harry feel worse. Surely he'd done something, and now he had to fix it. If only he knew what!

A loud sigh came from the bedroom and Harry was drawn out of his contemplation.

"Harry, get in here. It's quite cold."

Harry gave a loud huff and shrugged off the cloak.

"You really are far too restless to pull off being invisible." the silken voice from the bedroom answered Harry's thoughts.

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes and made his way to the bedroom. And as he took off his shirt, their eyes met. Onyx eyes pierced his soul, as if looking for something and the emerald ones flickered to the left, uncomfortable under their scrutiny.

Severus was even more sure that Harry was hiding something, and it made him feel wretched. Was Harry lying to him? The Gryffindor slid into the bed next to him and they held each other for a long moment.

_"There's such a fooled heart,_

_Beating so fast,_

_In search of new dreams._

_A love that will last,_

_Within your heart._

_I'll place the moon_

_Within your heart."_

So what now? Should he say something? Should he wait until Harry spoke first? _Would_ Harry speak about what caused that sad love in his eyes? Did he even realize it was clear to Snape that something in the past was haunting him? It was so obvious the aspirations of Harry's heart whenever they kissed, whenever they touched. Harry wanted- no, _needed-_ this love to last. To be forever.

"Harry?" Severus finally whispered across the darkness between them.

"Yeah?"

"Are you- Are you cold?" _Damn._

"A little," Harry admitted, coming into Severus' open arms. Now that Snape was holding him, he could think of nothing else except the smell of _Harry_ and the strong love that he felt towards the young man.

_"As the pain sweeps through,_

_Makes no sense for you._

_Every thrill it's caused,_

_Wasn't too much fun at all,_

_But I'll be there for you,_

_As the world falls down."_

A scream jerked Severus out his slumber with his heart pounding. The scream sounded again, seeming to echo in Snape's ears. Then he noticed the body thrashing next to him and the tangled limbs and covers. _Harry. Nightmare._ Severus breathed a sigh of relief, the visions of rogue Death Eaters fading away.

Harry screamed again and Severus stopped feeling relieved. _What a terrible sound._ He went to hold Harry, pulling the failing body close to his and whispering assurances while stroking Harry's back.

"Sh, love. It's alright, love..."

"I'M NOT A FREAK!" Harry's own scream seemed to wake him and he shuddered into Severus' arms. It startled Severus, but he continued to hold Harry until the Gryffindor fell asleep again. _What did this mean?_ Something nagged at the back of his mind, it was important, he was sure. It was the secret to Harry. But just what was it? Surely he would remember such a thing... Unless he had been Oblivated. But when would that have happened? Would Harry have ever willingly told him whatever was going on? If not, then when?

Occlumency lessons. When they were not the best of friends, constantly invading each others privacy. Perhaps one of the lessons, Snape had caught wind of a memory that Harry didn't want him to know about. But what would it have been about? Why had Harry screamed that he wasn't a freak? Who would have the audacity to tell Harry that he was? Well, there was always the Dursleys. But they were supposed to be part of Lily's family, would they not be proud of their little wizard? Then again, there was always that rumor that the famous Harry Potter had slept in a cupboard while living with them. Could it be true?

(I wrote this song purely for this fanfiction. I just got the words "There's one last secret between us" and thought it sounded pretty. So a song popped out.)

**One Last Secret.**

_There's one last secret between us,_

_But how can I ever tell you?_

_Would you understand, or would you run away_

_taking my heart and soul with you._

_Could I stand it?_

_Could I ever stand to lose you?_

_Is it worth the risk?_

_But I can feel it building,_

_You look at me, and know that something is wrong_

_I can't tell you and you sigh,_

_Is it pity that makes you look away?_

_Or is it frustration?_

_I'm sorry._

_Won't you hear my pleas?_

_Take away all that is mine,_

_And leave me with nothing except your heart._

_Just don't make me tell you,_

_This one last secret._

_It's black, it's dangerous,_

_Something that would push you away,_

_Or pull you closer._

_Just where would it lead us?_

_To the dark pools of blood,_

_Or to the forsaken light?_

_Tell me you'll care for me,_

_Tell me you'll cry for me,_

_Tell me you'll never leave me._

_Because this one last secret,_

_Is keeping this love from growing._

_Show me you love me,_

_Show me everything,_

_Reassure me that I don't need to say,_

_What needs to be said._

_And this one last secret, I will never tell._

If anything, Harry was happier than he ever had been in his life. Even if he had nightmare last night. The fact of the matter was that he had woken up in Severus' arms. And that had given him the wonderful feeling of safety. It was so rare a feeling, that Harry cherished it when he could. He had found love, finally. It was like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in the same room all his life. Impossible, yet so entirely possible. Harry's past was behind him and he could now look forward to each new day.

_But you can never be normal, you will always be a _freak.

No! He would not let them ruin his life! But the memory of Vernon's hands caressing his thighs made Harry close his eyes in shame and turn away. He suddenly felt dirty and the urge to scrub away the very memory was irresistible. He always had to be _different_ somehow. Jaded because he had let himself be _violated,_ by his own relatives nonetheless!

Before really realizing it, Harry had climbed in Severus' shower while the other man slept. He let the water run and sank down to the floor, a soaped cloth in his hand. Harry scrubbed his entire body as hard as he could, trying to erase the memory of so long ago. After all, this only happened now and then. Harry would get over it, forget it for awhile. And then it would hit him again, like now.

The feeling was only going to last a day, perhaps less. If he played right, like he always did around his friends, Severus would never notice either. _And what would he think? Knowing I let that asshole touch me?_ The image of Snape turning away from Harry in shame brought tears. He wept inside the shower as he rubbed his skin raw. Harry was glad for the water, it smoothed and mixed with the tears on his cheeks. Soothing his invisible sorrows.

Chapter Eight. "_Deep into a dying day, I took a step outside an innocent heart, Prepare to hate me fall when I may, This night will hurt you like never before." -'I Wish I Had An Angel' by Nightwish._

Severus woke to the sound of the shower running and smiled, glad that Harry had stayed. He stretched and yawned, feeling well rested. Then the events of the night came crashing down and Severus had to suppress the urge to join Harry in the shower. He never wanted to leave his love alone. There was no way that he would let Harry go after so long of resisting his heart's desire. Good thing it was the weekend, or Harry would have forced to leave by now.

But after half an hour of going in and out of consciousness, Severus realized Harry had been in the shower far too long. Frowning, the potions master climbed out of the bed and opened the door to his bathroom. The sight that met him almost forced him to his knees.

"Harry..."

The young Gryffindor was curled up in the corner of the shower stall with a rough cloth in his hand. He was rubbing it over skin that had obviously already been under assault for quite some time.

"What are you doing?" Severus whispered, gently tugging the cloth from Harry's hands. A soft whimper escaped from Harry and he shied away from Snape.

The cloth fell forgotten between them.

"Harry..." Snape's voice was pleading as he reached out to Harry again. A shaking hand reached out to meet his and they clasped at each other desperately. Severus pulled Harry towards him and held the young man tightly. _Oh, Merlin,_ Snape thought despairingly, _what is going wrong?_

They held on to each other as if the world was falling around them_, _nothing else mattered. After Harry's sobs had quieted, Severus reached out to turn off the water. Another long moment and they were both shivering, Severus bade Harry to stand and wrapped a towel around the Gryffindor. Harry had finally stopped crying by then and gratefully let his lover take care of him.

And what must he think! Finding Harry crying in the shower like that. Harry should have known that the sound of running water would wake up the Professor. How absolutely embarrassing! Pushing the reason and the memories down, Harry focused on his love for Snape. He let it fill him up with warmth and the feeling of safety. Nothing was better than Severus' arms holding him, the lips on his forehead and the hand in his hair.

"Thank you, Severus." _Thank you for loving me._

"For what, Harry?"

"Being there for me."

"I always will be."

_No you won't. Not if you knew._

But wouldn't it better if Severus _did_ know? He deserved to know the truth of Harry's past after all. Snape, as Harry's new lover, needed to know that section of his past. Because as much as Harry hated to admit it, it was a part of who he was. It would always haunt him, it would always be there to take away that last little bit of happiness Harry had gained. But it would be easier to bare if Severus at least knew. That _someone_ knew.

"Can I show you a memory, Severus?" Harry asked Snape's chest, his voice muffled by the soft skin. He felt the Slytherin hesitate before he spoke.

"If you cannot tell me."

_No, that would be far too painful._ "I don't think I can." Harry gathered his thoughts and selected a memory from the Dursley's abuse that was more mild than the others.

"I'm ready."

Severus cautiously entered Harry's mind, dipping a toe into the water just as Harry thrust a memory at him.

It was over so soon, Harry wasn't sure how his lover would react. When there was only silence, Harry gently released the Memory Charm he had put on Snape so long ago. Severus buckled slightly, but Harry caught him and gently sat him on the bed.

"So that is what happened..." the potions master whispered. He understood why Harry had oblivated him now. Back then, he would have scorned and been cruel, assuming Harry was making it up.

"Harry, what went wrong this morning?"

"I-I... I had a nightmare and it reminded me of what happened with... Them. It happens sometimes. I just start to remember what they did to me and I feel like such a freak."

"You're not a freak, Harry." Severus pulled the young man into a tight embrace. "Please don't call yourself that."

"But I am!" Harry suddenly sobbed. "That's what they said! I've always been different... Always _special."_

"Don't listen to them, Harry. They know nothing of the young man you really are. You're a _wizard,_ Harry. That doesn't make you a freak."

There was a long silence, then Harry looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks.

"You don't hate me?"

Severus was shocked. "Why would I hate you?"

"Because of what I let them do to me..."

"No, Harry. It's not a weakness, it is the strength you have for defying them. By still being _sane._ By taking that experience and learning from it, instead of letting it destroy you."

"Really?"

Snape frowned absently. _The boy is blind when it comes to his own innocence and inner beauty. How could anyone harm a child to such an extent?_ He really should have guessed what was going on with Harry.

"Really." he confirmed with a nod and gentle kiss. The kiss seemed to help more than the words because Harry melted into him, giving him love in the only way he knew how.

"Harry, I have something to ask you..." Severus began, taking a deep breath and going on his knees before Harry. He had planned on doing this when Harry was officially graduated, but it seemed as if this was the right time.

The young Gryffindor sniffed and wiped away his tears, giving Snape a confused look.

"Will you-" Severus cleared his throat and started again, looking up into those beautiful green eyes. "Will you marry me?"

Harry's eyes went big and he simply stared at his lover. _What? Had he heard right?_

"Are-Are you sure you want to?" It came out before Harry could stop himself and clamped his hand over his mouth. At Severus' frown, Harry launched himself at Snape, embracing him.

"Yes, I'll marry you! Of course, I will! Yes, yes yes!"

Chapter Nine. _"Just take a breath, and softly say good-bye." -'Here We Are' by Breaking Benjamin._

A wedding! Well, a bonding, but it was the same thing! Harry was going to be married to the man he loved! The Gryffindor couldn't help the wide grin that split his face as he thought about what they had planned.

It was going to be small, only Harry's friends and a few staff members. McGonagall was the only one they both trusted to marry them, and she had been ecstatic to learn of their request. Well- after she got over the initial shock that Severus was having a relationship with Harry. But they had explained, the Headmistress became very pleased that they had found happiness in each other.

"Mind wiping that outrageous grin of your face, Potter?" Severus snapped, claiming Harry's attention back to potions notes. "Or would you care to share what you find so amusing?"

The sparkle in the dark eyes belied his words, he knew why Harry was so happy. The joy they shared when they met each others gaze was too intense for Severus not to smile. The Professor abruptly shook his head, hiding his face with his hair. Harry decided to try and not think about the wedding while in class. Harry only had a few more days before exams, so it would do him good to pay attention to the review.

Getting back to his notes, Harry felt Ron lean over and whisper,

"I can't believe your getting married to _Snape,_ Harry."

"Sh, Ron! Someone might hear you!" Harry hissed back, but giving a sheepish smile nonetheless.

"Still, it's so _weird._ But I'm glad you're happy, Harry."

Little did they know, a cunning ear was listening and attentive eyes were watching. In fact, she couldn't believe her eyes when her Head of House _smiled_ at Saint Potter. Until she heard what the Weasel said, is was horrific! Perhaps her Professor was drugged, under a spell. Yes, somehow Potter had magicked Snape into this wedding. The sensible man certainly wouldn't even entertain such a scandal! Nevermind with a _man! _Since when was Potter gay? Oh, that was too juicy, she had to tell the Daily Prophet that one. But the wedding... It had to be stopped. Millicent Bulstrode wasn't going to allow her dear Professor to succumb to Potter.

Exams had been a piece of cake, Harry could hardly believe it. Surely he'd gotten the one about _maximus_ spells wrong. And the wedding was only a few days away!

"Hermione, I think-"

"That you either failed miserably or did exceptionally good? I know. I don't know what to do about it. It's making me go insane. The exams _can't_ have been that easy. It's just impossible!"

"You know, I think you shouldn't worry about it. Harry's getting married on the weekend, after all!" Ron said with a cheer, putting an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"I never thought you'd take it so well, Ron." said Harry, returning the smile.

"Yeah, well. It's much better seeing you randomly grin than... Well, you know."

_Bathing in my own blood..._ Harry finished his friend's thought. He supposed Ron was right, Severus was doing him a world of good.

"So, what's the plan until then?" Harry asked suddenly, putting an arm around both his friends.

Hermione looked at him, askance. "Why, go shopping for a wedding robe, of course!"

Both Ron and Harry blanched. "Shopping?"

The robe they had finally settled on for Harry was an off-white, with a tint of grey. Its long sleeves and folds flowed elegantly when Harry walked to the mirror to look one last time. He was so nervous! His hair was still a mess, but it was the best it had looked in years. And that spot at the edge of his robes, why hadn't he seen it before? Maybe they should return it quickly and get a new one.

"Harry, stop worrying. You look fantastic." Hermione said as she came into the room. She hugged Harry from behind and smiled at him in the mirror.

"Look at you, eighteen and already getting married. Are you sure this is what you want Harry?"

"Of course, 'Mione. I'm more sure than I've ever been."

"Good." Hermione's smile turned mischievous as she pushed Harry towards the door. "Now go before he changes his mind!"

Everyone was already assembled when Harry slowly walked in, suddenly unsure of everything. All were smiling brightly, and then Harry met Severus' eyes. The world stopped spinning and all that mattered was Severus. They joined hands and stared at each other with such glowing happiness that the entire room seemed to sigh at once.

McGonagall began, "We are now here assembled-"

"Stop! Under the order of the Ministry, this wedding is not to take place!" Fudge himself burst into the room, panting heavily from climbing the stairs. Three Aurors flanked him, not looking nearly as exhausted, just glaring.

"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall questioned angrily, adjusting her glasses and fixing a glare at the Minister.

"Law 342 states that no Death Eater," here the prude looked sternly at Severus, "can ever marry."

"That's preposterous!" McGonagall protested hotly.

"There must be some mistake, Minister-" Hermione started.

"Yeah, I mean, I think we checked everything." Ron piped up.

"'Arry can marry whoever 'e wants ta!" Hagrid put in, drawing himself up to his full towering height.

The Minister had the grace to look intimidated, but he seemed adamant. "There will be no discussion, the law is the law."

Severus contemplated killing the man, but decided that would only prove Fudge's point. He could see Harry was too shocked and angry for words. He squeezed the hands in his and Harry moved his eyes back to him.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'll find away around this." the Professor turned to Fudge. "I demand to take this issue to court, I am no longer a Death-"

"It doesn't matter! You _were_ a Death Eater! You worked for You-Know-Who! Take it to court if you wish, Snape, but the law is clear. This wedding cannot take place!"

A sudden smash sounded and everyone turned to stare at the broken vase, spilling the ceremonial sand that had been in it onto the floor.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" Harry screamed, his fists clenched at his sides. The Gryffindor looked ready to charge at Fudge and his Aurors, regardless of the consequences.

"Actually, Harry, I can." Fudge jutted his chin in the air. "Further more, there had been recent dark activity in the north. We will begin enlisting come Tuesday, I suggest you start packing."

And they turned and the left the room in a sudden silence.

Naturally, the court date kept being pushed to a later and later date. Severus couldn't push their attorney any further and all were beginning to realize it was useless. The Wizengamot wasn't going to listen to their appeal in hundred years.

"Severus, quit pacing. It's really no use." Harry chided gently, his voice heavy as he buried his hand in his hair.

They were in their new home in Montreal, Canada. It was beautiful home, fitting right in with the other older buildings on the block. Vines grew on the walls and twirled their leaves around the stairs outside the house. The outside was what Harry had fallen in love with first. It was so green, dense and _alive._ Then Severus had shown him the inside, already furnished tastefully in the Victorian period. It was all warm reds, oranges and browns. A fireplace adorned the wooden floored living room for cold nights. And a huge thick rug in front of it for even colder nights. Something Quebec seemed to have quite a few of in the winter.

A few months ago, after the disaster of a wedding, Severus had rectified the dark day with a surprise. He showed Harry the house he had bought for them, already equipped with Floo and Apparition points. Snape had made sure that Hogwarts would never be far away from Harry. It was beautiful and Harry loved it. Even better, Severus had resigned and was now conducting a potions order business. Also, because of their move, it was easier for the Professor to stay at home than go to Hogwarts.

But the Ministry was still avoiding the issue of their appeal.

"Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry, I know I should have researched-"

"Nonsense, Severus. We both know they made it up the second they found out. Which we still have yet to find out who told them, by the way." Harry sighed heavily into his hands. Severus came and wrapped his arms around his lover in comfort.

A tapping on the window broke the silence and the Professor went to the open it. A Ministry owl flew in and landed on the breakfast table Harry was sitting at. It straightened and stuck out its foot in a stately manner. Frowning, Harry took the letter and it flew off.

"Maybe the court date changed again?" Severus asked hopefully as he closed the window and came back to Harry.

"No... This is the conscription Fudge was talking about. But I thought he had said Tuesday? It's been two months since then."

"But, the Ministry has no right to drafting. I thought it was strange when he spoke of enlisting."

"Well, it seems that they do now. I have to arrive at the Auror Office ten thirty tomorrow for training."

"How long are you going to be there?"

"Six weeks, then they want to send me out to kill the rogue Death Eaters."

"And then what? Does it say when you come h-home?" the break in Severus' voice made Harry look up at his lover. A tear had escaped one eye. Harry reached up to wipe it away and kissed his face.

"You know how war is, Severus. I wouldn't be surprised is Fletcher is the one behind all of this, and he probably has more than a few fighting with him." Harry kissed his lips this time. "You'll wait for me, won't you?"

Another tear escaped. "Of course, I will."

"Oh, don't cry, Severus. I'll come back soon enough, you won't even have a chance to miss me."

But the kisses were wet, the touches were yearning and the sex so desperate it was painful. Both collapsed on the bed, exhausted and crying each other to sleep.

Chapter Ten. _Can you still breathe, my love?_

"Just stay still, I want to get this right." Harry shifted the camera a little to the left on the stand, then pushed the button for the timer. He ran back beside Severus and wrapped his arms around him. They looked into each others eyes, smiling for the moment in their love. The flash went off just as Severus leaned down for a kiss. Both ignored the camera as it beeped that it was done. Their innocent kiss turned heated, but both knew they didn't have the time. Harry already had a hand up Severus' shirt by the time he pulled away.

"Still breathing?" Harry asked, a glint in his eyes at seeing how breathless Severus had become.

"Barely," he whispered, and swooped down for another kiss. "Don't leave me, Harry... Don't leave me, say that you've broken something and can't-"

Harry cut off his lovers protests with another sound kiss before stepping away. "You know they'll come get me if I don't."

And, with that last picture in both their hands, the lovers parted ways. Harry to fight someone else's war, Severus to await his return home.

**Two years later...**

"My, my. Did ya see dat, 'Arry?" Pansy Parkinson asked, looked sideways at her partner.

"Yeah. I can't believe he was such a coward. We were not even close enough to attack." Harry answered, scowling darkly at the darkening horizon.

"Come on, dear. We better rest up for tonight." Pansy said, she too eyeing the horizon.

The pair then Apparated back to the Auror Headquarters and headed to the barracks. Once sitting on his bed, Harry pulled out a quill and parchment. And like every other night, Pansy watched him from above.

"Ya still write ta 'em?"

"Of course, I do."

"Dat's not what I mean, 'Arry. It's been two years, don' ya think ee's moved on by now?"

"If I think about that, and if I stop writing, I'm pretty sure I'll go insane. This battle is so pointless, Fletcher wants nothing more than to terrorize the Ministry. And he's succeeding, they're panicking up there. I can't decide what's keeping me from running away."

"The threat dat de Ministry is 'olden o'er ya 'ead?"

"Probably. I can't believe that I'm staying here just so when my term is over, I can actually marry him this time."

"Inna it differen' o'er dar in Canada?"

"Yes, but I have to finish my term here. Then I can freely go back to our house without being dragged back."

It was the exact same conversation they had every night, but they never tired of it. It was like holding up a candle to their hope of seeing the end one day. But tonight, Pansy's mind was working in a new direction.

"But what if ya just _go,_ 'Arry? Canna ya put a charm on da 'ouse?"

Harry frowned and looked up her, this wasn't a usual question. "You mean like a Fidelius Charm?"

"Uh-huh. Don' ya know how ta do dat one?"

"Of course, but I'll never be able to come back to Britain. Even when this is over, they'll say I abandoned the Wizarding World."

"But ya dinna wanna come back yesterday, 'Arry."

"My friends are-" Harry cut himself off, burying his head in hands. Hermione and Ron were dead. They had been one of the first ones to die, foolishly brave as they were. It has been their first battle with major Death Eaters and they had insisted on being in the front line. Harry had hung back in the caution that had been instilled into him. And they had died.

"Exactly. Ya got nothin' keepin' ya 'ere." Pansy's matter-of-fact voice broke through Harry's thoughts.

"And you? What will you do once I'm gone?"

"Oh, I'll find my way, 'Arry. Ya dinna 'ave ta worry 'bout me."

"Come with me!" Harry exclaimed, caught up in the idea of escape. "Severus and I can easily find a house for you!"

"Na, darlin'. Ma life is 'ere, my death 'ill be 'ere."

"Pansy, don't go on like that again. In Canada you can make a _new_ life. Who knows, you might even meet someone. The boys down there have very cute Quebecois accents."

Pansy giggled, her eyes lighting with the fantasy. "Oh, dey wouldna like my way o' talkin', dat's for sure!"

"I thought you said you could still sound British if you wanted to?"

Parkinson rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. "Of course, I can. How else could I have pretended to be a pureblood all this time? When I was really a sassy Muggle-born with no parents and less money?"

Harry laughed at her suddenly normal speech. He was not used to it after working with her for so long. "Oh, come on! Please, Pansy. This is all too ridiculous. There is no way we could leave and get away with it."

Quiet and turning out the light, Pansy decided she would help Harry. Even if it were at the cost of her death.

She was wearing her muggle jeans and white t-shirt when she arrived in front of the Montreal house. Pansy cocked her head and put her hands on her hips. _This_ was the place Harry admired so much? It looked overgrown, old and crawling with spiders. Seeing one on the railing of the stairs confirmed her belief. She walked up the stairs slowly, trying to see what so amazing about the house.

Finding herself at beautiful oak wood door, Pansy knocked politely. Surely the Professor had already realized she was here? Didn't he have wards? Perhaps he thought it was safe enough far away in Canada. Parkinson decided that was probably true, there was nothing to fear here. Except spiders. The witch cast another suspicious look at the one crawling on the welcome mat.

"Yes?" came the familiar voice of her old Head of House. "Miss Parkinson! What are you doing here?"

Pansy smiled and nervously tucked a strand of black hair back into her bun. Now that she was here, she wasn't quite sure how to explain what she wanted to do.

"I-" Pansy coughed, unsure of how to continue. Should she claim her pureblood status or keep her rough-talk? It was who she really was after all. "I came here for Harry."

Severus blinked like an owl, shocked. "He's not-"

"Oh, no! Se'erus, please. 'Arry is 'ery much alive!" In her panic, her rough accent came through. Pansy clamped a hand over her mouth and stared at the ground.

Severus frowned, then motioned for her to come in. "That doesn't sound like a pureblood accent, Miss Parkinson."

"No... But that isn't what I came here to discuss, Se-v-erus." she struggled with his name, trying to roll the 's' and the 'v' together.

"Then what? What does this visit have to do with Harry?"

"I need you to put a Fidelius Charm on your house, then I can smuggle Harry here safely."

"How can you do that? Won't the Ministry catch you? Speaking of which, how did _you_ get here without being caught?"

"The Ministry doesn't watch me as closely as they do Harry. I managed to sneak away during the night, Harry doesn't even know where I am. Though I'm sure he can guess."

"Why now? Why didn't you do this two years ago?"

"Because before, Harry was fighting for his right to marry you and his right to have friends in Britain. The Ministry told him they would annul the law about not marrying Death Eaters if he finished his term. But his term won't end until the war is over, we all knew it was bullshit when they said we only had to serve a one-year term."

"And now?"

"He's given up somewhere deep inside, Se'erus. He knows that the Ministry would never grant an annulment. And they will never let him leave. He has no escape, none of us do. But most of us that are left, have no place to go. Except for Harry. He can runaway to a foreign country, and then claim to be under Canadian law. But we both know the Ministry, which is why I ask you put up a Fidelius Charm."

"Alright," Severus stood, "I'll do it right now. Will you help me?"

"Of course. Your secret keeper?"

"Will you?"

"Of course. But I'm not coming back, Se'erus. I will bring Harry here, and then I will go back. They will most likely interrogate me about his whereabouts, but I'll do my best."

"Why don't you stay here with us? We can easily find you a house."

"I haven't the money. My life is in that pointless war, like countless others. I have no place to go, nor do I wish leave."

Snape frowned, but let the subject drop. They both lifted their wands and began to cast the Charm on the house.

"'Arry, wake up. 'Arry," Pansy gently shook the Gryffindor awake. He glared at her and slipped his glasses on.

"What's going on? Why are you up so early?"

"Sh, we gotta go now. Get ya stuff n' follow me."

Frowning, Harry did so and wondered what his partner was up to. Shouldering his pack, he followed her through the dark, into passageways he'd never noticed before. Suddenly they were walking through a cave and Pansy lit her wand. She pointed to a roughly made fireplace at the end of the tunnel.

"Der is Floo Powder in da bag ta da right. 'N da phrase is 'Lion's Den'. Ya go to dat lovely 'ouse o' yours." she whispered, motioning him forward.

"But... What about you? I won't let you stay here!" Harry suddenly stood his ground, determined to bring his last friend with him.

"I canna go, 'Arry. I got a life 'ere."

"And what sort of life is that? And the others are no better! I am coming back, and I am dragging you with me. Where else is this Floo connected?"

"Ta ya 'ouse 'n da Ravenclaw Common Room. Ya canna save us all, 'Arry. Ya already did dat in da first war, no need to sacrifice ya-self again."

Harry scowled at her and stomped away. He grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace.

"I'm coming back, you better be ready when I do." said Harry. "Lion's Den!"

And the Boy-Who-Lived disappeared in a roar of green fire. He appeared again, tumbling out of the fireplace in his home. Harry stood slowly, brushing the ashes away when his lover burst into room.

"What? Harry! Oh, Merlin, _you're here!"_

They ran to each other, embracing the other tightly as if to make sure it was real.

"Oh, Severus, it's really you..."

"You're finally here..."

"Don't let me go, Severus, don't ever let me go."

"Never again, never again. I promise, Harry."

Tears were inevitable, they both sobbed into the others shoulder. They had been apart for far too long. Neither knew how long they stood there, holding each other too tightly. But eventually they pulled slightly apart to gaze at each other. No words could describe emotional torrent that passed between them. A kiss seemed like the perfect punctuation to break it. It was wet, but just as full of love and desire as it had been the very first time.

Then Harry withdrew with a small smirk. "Still breathing?"

Severus smiled and breathed out a chuckle. "Barely."

Chapter Eleven. _"For whom the gun tolls, for whom the prey weeps, bow before a war, call it religion." -'Kinslayer' by Nightwish._

Pansy Parkinson folded her hands and gazed longingly at the one thing Harry had left behind. His most prized possession during his time here The last photograph he had taken of himself and his lover. It was a muggle one, so it didn't move. But the way they were looking at each other, it was obvious a good snog had taken place not long after.

"I don't know why you pine after him, he's obviously-"

"I am _not_ in love with 'Arry!" Pansy snapped at her newly assigned partner since Harry left.

Hannah Abbot rolled her eyes. "Sure looks like it, dear."

"Hey- Parkinson?" a voice from the bed over called.

"Yeah? Wad do ya want, Weatherspoon?"

"Do you really think Harry will come back for us?"

"I wouldna dare 'ope, Jack."

Jack turned to face her, propping himself up on one elbow. "But that's what he said, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but dat dinna mean 'ees gonna come."

"Surely the-"

"Don' put dat foolish 'ero stuff on 'em, Jack."

"But-"

_"I don' know,_ okay? Frankly, I don' wanna leave."

"But Pansy, we all know you better than that. You want to leave as much as we do. You've been stuck here too long, that's all." Abbot put in cheerfully.

"It's been two days since, though..." Jack pointed out.

"See? I told ya so."

"He's probably arranging something, somewhere. We're a big group, you know."

But the night didn't bring Harry back. No one came out of the dark and shook them awake. Pansy couldn't stand the hope welling inside her at Harry's promise. It was a foul thing, to hope for an end. Would the war end? Would Fletcher take over the Ministry and rule by terrorism? Would he give up after killing Fudge? Who would replace Fudge, then?

She needed to stay to see these questions through. Right?

Sometime towards midnight, having managed to quell the quivering hope inside, fell asleep. Then the next thing she knew, someone was shaking her shoulder and calling her name.

"Pansy, Pansy! Wake up!"

Pansy opened her eyes, to find Jack's excited face in her own.

"Come on, will you! It's our turn to go!"

"What?" Pansy sat up slowly, seeing with surprise everyone else up and have of them already gone. "Where is everyone?"

"I can't tell you, we gotta go, Pansy!" Jack pulled her up and dragged her away.

"Wait! 'Arry's photo!" Pansy ran back and snatched it from under her pillow. She held it to her heart and looked to the sky. "Thank you, whoever you are."

Everything else was blur until they arrived at Hogwarts. Everyone was talking loudly after the silence of moving through the passage way. She still couldn't believe that she was free, that they all were. Surely the Ministry officials were just behind that door?

Then she saw Harry, and standing next to him, Severus. They didn't see her, talking to people as they came in through the fireplace. Pansy pushed through the crowd to him until she finally had her arms around him.

"Hi, 'Arry." she greeted quietly, hugging him tightly.

"Pansy." he buried his nose in her hair and hugged her more tightly in return. "It's good to see you again."

Beside them, Severus cleared his throat and they broke apart.

"So, is this the real reason, Harry?" Snape accused, but there was a light of mischief in his eyes.

"Oh, no! Se'erus, I just wanted ta give 'Arry 'ees photo back." she handed it to Harry, blushing. "I dinna mean ta-"

"Oh, Pansy. Why did you keep this?"

Pansy shuffled her feet and looked at the ground. "I wanted ta keep it in case ya dinna come back."

"I promised, don't you remember? I keep my promises."

"I know dat now, thank you." she paused, a small smile pulling at her lips. "I'll see ya 'round, 'Arry."

**The End.**


End file.
